Flashforward
by caffinate-me
Summary: Flashforward/Flashback- a story in two parts. How the hell had she gone from a basement to the roof of a New York City skyscraper by walking through a doorway? AU.
1. Flashforward Prologue

Flashforward/Flashback  


A story in two parts.

A/N: For Dia who wooed me with this wonderful prompt. Thank you, Kate Christie, as always for all of the pretty red marks, which never fail to make my stories better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or any of it's characters. I just like to take them out to play from time to time.

* * *

Flashforward

Part One

Prologue

Kate Beckett pulled in a steadying breath followed by a nearly imperceptible shake of her head as she steeled herself to walk through the doorway to the laundry room. The past week had been hell, and not just because of the dead girl they had found only a couple days before tumbling in a dryer in this very room, nor was it because they found out that she had been killed by her friend and over a man no less. It had been hell because of _him. _Richard Castle.

Richard Fucking Castle.

He was so annoying, a child. Seriously, he was a fucking child, and she was stuck with him. And it wasn't like she couldn't do this job alone. She had been sans partner for months and was getting along just fine alone. She had Ryan and Esposito for backup when she needed them, and up until now Montgomery had been more than okay with the arrangement, but then Richard Fucking Castle waltzed into the precinct and everyone had fallen head over heels for him, everyone except her, of course. There was no way he would ever be anything other than a nuisance to her.

Sure, she had whispered in his ear the week before but that had been to taunt, to tease. She wasn't _actually _attracted to him at all. She wasn't. She has told Montgomery that Castle was an annoying, self-centered bastard, and she stood by that description. What type of self-respecting woman would actually want to sleep with _that_?

But she digressed. In short, he was annoying, and she could feel her blood pressure rising just thinking about having to put up with him for a month or however long Montgomery, the commissioner and mayor made her put up with him for this book. If it was more than 3, she might actually shoot him.

But right now she had a hostage situation to deal with, glancing back she was happy to see that Esposito had her back, like always, and Castle was actually hanging back like he had been told. She rolled her eyes; well there had to be a first time for everything.

Taking in a deep breath, she turned the corner into the basement room with every confidence, only to be surrounded by a flash of brilliant white light; she found herself tumbling forward, landing hard on the concrete floor, gun still gripped in her hand.

Staring up, she squinted into the blistering sun as she lifted her free hand to press against her pounding skull.

"What the..."

How the hell had she gotten outside? Had they gone through the wrong doorway? She turned her head to look back at the door. Where the hell was Esposito?

With a groan she forced her aching body up on one propped elbow high enough so she could take in her surroundings, being sure to keep her gun hand free in case she needed it, but there was nothing but the normal sounds of the city below. Her brow furrowed, and she gathered enough strength to propel her body off of the ground, not a hard feat with the adrenaline now pumping through her veins.

She was on a roof, she noted as she wandered over to the ledge. How the hell had she gone from a basement to the roof of a New York City skyscraper by walking through a doorway? Unless she had a concussion and had just forgotten the last few minutes. And if the percussion ensemble playing in her temple was any indication it was definitely a plausible scenario. She glanced down taking inventory of herself. She still had her gun, that was good at least, but what the heck was she wearing? Looking back up, her eyes roamed the horizon, searching it like it might actually hold some answers for her. Pitching forward onto her hands, she leaned against the waist-high concrete ledge that stood between her and accidentally falling to her death. Well, it was becoming clear that she wasn't going to get any answers standing alone on a rooftop. With a sigh she made to turn. Then the bright white world turned black.


	2. Flashforward Chapter 1

Flashforward 

Part One

Chapter One

She woke with a start, her head pounding, an audible groan escaping her lips as she attempted to open her eyes. It was still bright, too bright, but a face came into view, eclipsing the sun.

"You disappoint me Detective Beckett. I would have thought it would have been be harder to take you down."

"Who…?"

"Oh come now, I didn't hit you that hard. You can't honestly say that you tracked me down, chased me up here, and now don't remember my name. I would be insulted," the man responded with a smug smirk.

Kate attempted to raise a hand to block the sun only to find both of them bound behind her back, and her gun - gone from her grip - now stashed snuggly in the man's waistband. Who the hell was this guy? He had definitely not been involved in the nanny case, but he knew who she was and seemed convinced she was chasing him. Delusional stalker? Okay, this was bad, very bad, but she could get herself out of it, or at least buy some time until her back-up arrived. She must have back-up, right?

"I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding," she began as she struggled to right herself. She inched herself up the concrete wall until she was sitting and then lifted up onto her knees. If she was going to be shot on this roof she at least wanted to be upright when it happened. The fact that she had just put herself into an execution style kneeling position wasn't lost on her either. "You have no reason to harm me. I'm not chasing you. I swear I will walk down off this roof right now, and you'll never see me again."

The man let out a dark chuckle. "You really expect me to believe that, Detective? He even warned you. You keep pursuing this case, and we will kill you. But what did you do? You kept pursuing, so now I have no choice. I really was hoping you would make it a little more fun, at least attempt to put up a fight."

Kate's eyes widened as he lifted the gun, the barrel pointed directly at her forehead. Helpless, knees burning on the hot cement, she risked a panicked glance at the door, but no one was there. She had to do something or else this psycho was going to put a bullet in her skull.

She heard the click of the safety releasing. The world went still around her, the sounds of the city fell silent, the breeze refused to blow. Her own breath was null in her chest. This was it, this was the end, so she did the only thing she could do, she bowed her head, drew in a deep breath, and prayed. Then just as his finger twitched toward the trigger she lunged.

Her head rammed the gunman's thighs, knocking him to the ground, sending the gun skittering just as the bullet sliced a white hot trail down her back. Screaming out in pain, she struggled to stand up, adrenaline and pure fury fueling her every motion. Her hands and arms were still bound uselessly behind her back, but she managed to propel herself off the ground in time to place a well-aimed roundhouse kick to his head, sending him sprawling on the ground before stomping her booted heel into his stomach.

Then, just as the world began to swim around her, once more she heard the tell-tale sound of the metal door banging open against the wall followed by the shouts of the cavalry.

"Over here!" She yelled out in response to Ryan's calls, but the world was fading too fast, and her assailant was now running across the rooftop to a refuge unknown.

* * *

Her hand was warm. That was the first thought that filtered through the fog of her brain. It was warm and soft and _mmm,_ something smelled good, like expensive cologne and just a hint of laundry detergent.

"Beckett? Beckett can you hear me?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled in response, content to simply snuggle deeper into the cozy cocoon that surrounded her. She couldn't quite pinpoint to whom the voice belonged, but it was vaguely familiar, and in that moment and her current state of haze it was enough.

The warmth engulfing her hand disappeared and then she felt a palm caress her forehead as the deep voice came a fraction closer. "Beckett? Kate? I need you to wake up. Can you do that for me?"

That was odd. It didn't sound like her father's voice, but she didn't know anyone else who would be comfortable being this familiar with her, not since Will, anyway, and she had removed him as her emergency contact when he left for Boston.

Cracking one eye open, she noted the stark white sheets and the beige walls. Well, she definitely was in a hospital, lying on her side in the bed, and judging by the fuzzy feeling currently floating through her veins, she was on some very nice narcotics as well. She let out a low hum which drew a strained chuckle from the man in the room with her, and she forced her second eye, the one that wasn't partially obstructed from the side of her face being smashed into the pillow, open.

"Hey," the voice greeted again and her gaze focused in on a pair of brilliant blue, hesitant eyes. "Welcome back. How you feeling?"

Kate's brow furrowed. "Castle? What are you doing here?"

Castle's face fell, the weathered look in his eyes suddenly flooding the rest of his features, making him look years older than the millionaire playboy who had offered to sign her "chest" just days before. "Look, I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now…"

Kate bit back a shocked laugh, clutching her hospital gown closer to her neck. "You just don't give up do you? What did you do, bribe the nurse to let you in here? There are boundaries to your research, Mr. Castle."

The concern on his face morphed into indignation as he sat up straighter in his chair.

"Research. Right, so now we're back to that. I knew this was a mistake. I told myself I wouldn't come. I should go. I'll see you around, Detective."

Beckett felt a slight pang in her chest at his forlorn look, but she stayed silent as she watched him push himself out of the chair, turn, head hanging, and walk toward the exit.

He hesitated in the doorway, hands clenching at his sides. "I'm glad you're okay."

The he turned and disappeared down the hall.

She was still staring at the empty doorway when the doctor walked in, a smile on her face. "Good evening, Ms. Beckett, so glad to see you awake. Did your boyfriend head down to the cafeteria? They are closing soon."

"My… Oh," Kate did laugh this time, shaking her head as she attempted to sit up straight in the bed. "He's _not _my boyfriend. Far from it."

"Really?" The doctor questioned. "I've seen married men wander into their wives' rooms during childbirth with less worry and compassion on their faces than he had when he ran in here. Oh, no, sweetie, don't turn over. You have a line of stitches on your back from that bullet; you should stay on your side."

"Bullet?" Kate started, her head straining around to see the doctor who was now standing behind her, checking her back. She had been shot?

"Just a graze, you were very lucky. Well this looks good; how is your head feeling?"

"It, um," Kate furrowed her brow. "It hurts."

The doctor was in front of her now. "Okay, do you think you can sit up, I need to check you for a concussion."

Kate nodded as she struggled to right herself in the bed, legs dangling over the side so her back would be free from contact with the pillows. Wow, she thought, as she attempted to move, she really felt like shit.

"What's your name?" The doctor questioned as she pressed cool fingertips against Kate's skull.

"Katherine Houghton Beckett."

"Age?"

"Twenty-nine."

The doctor paused for a moment, lifting Kate's wrist to check the hospital-issued band for her date of birth, before tilting Kate's head up to look at her eyes. "What's today's date?"

"February 16, 2009."

"Okay, Detective, I'll be back in a few minutes to do a neurologic exam, check your vision, hearing, balance, muscle coordination, et cetera, and I'm going to schedule you for a CT scan, just as a precaution, so sit tight. Would you like me to show your friends in, they've been waiting very impatiently outside?"

Kate nodded, lifting a hand to straighten the neck of her hospital gown. The back of the gown hung open and she could feel the pull of the stitches and bandages down the length of her back. "What about my dad, is he here?"

The doctor shook her head. "I'm sorry, not yet. Your boy… um, friend, Mr. Castle, called him. He's on his way from his cabin now."

Kate nodded again, forcing out a quiet thank you, confusion flooding her thoughts. Since when did Castle know her father?

"Hey, Beckett."

Kate was jarred out of her thoughts once more by a greeting from the doorway, looking up to see Ryan standing there looking sheepish with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "How are you?"

Kate couldn't help but smile at her timid yet sweet colleague.

"I'm okay, thanks, Ryan. Tired and I can tell I'm going to hurt like hell once these meds wear off but I'm okay."

"Good, good." The Irish detective's head bobbed as he shifted awkwardly in the doorway. "Look, I know you are probably angry with me…"

Kate looked at him, puzzled. Why would she be mad at Ryan, and why did everyone think she was angry with them all of a sudden? "Why would I be mad at you? You just saved my life."

"Yeah…" His cheeks blushed pink. "But Gates and…"

Ryan trailed off, and Kate's eyes focused in on Esposito, who had walked up behind him, his face like stone. Ryan turned his head to look at the other man, breathing out a resigned sigh once he saw the unforgiving expression on his partner's face. "Um, well, I'm glad you're doing okay. I should go. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, well not too soon. Gates just suspended us," Espo snapped in response, his gaze laser focused on Ryan's back. "Three months. Thanks a lot, _partner." _

"Javi..."

"No, you know what, I don't want to hear it. Just go."

Beckett watched the exchange, shocked. Sure the two hadn't been partners for long, but she had never seen Ryan and Esposito fight like that. Bicker, sure, but not full on, knock-down, drag-out fight. And who the heck was Gates?

"I'll check in on you later, Beckett," Ryan nodded to her as he retreated to the hall, and Kate forced a small smile in response.

"Espo, what the hell was that?"

"What? He shouldn't have ratted us out. If he was so concerned, then he should have been there, watching our backs, not sitting around with his nose up Gates' ass."

Beckett watched him fume, nodding slowly. Trying to match up her own muddled timeline of events with what her team was telling her was making her head swim; the pounding in her temple was getting steadily worse.

"How are you feeling?"

Espo was giving her a small smile now, the heat gone from his eyes, replaced by the brotherly concern she was used to seeing. "I'm okay, a little confused though. The doctor wants to do a CT, make sure my head is alright."

Espo responded with a knowing hum, arms folding over his chest. "What happened with Castle? I know you guys had a fight but..."

"We didn't have a fight."

"Beckett, come on. The guy would never willingly walk out in the middle of a case, especially not this case."

"Espo..." Kate began shaking her head slowly.

"Just think about it, okay? That guy is the best thing that's happened to you in a long time. You'd have to be an idiot to throw it away. You may be a stubborn hard-ass when you get your toes stepped on, but we both know you're not an idiot, Kate."

Beckett could only continue to nod.

"And don't worry about Maddox, we'll get him. I know a guy."

"A guy? Maddox?"

"The guy's shot you twice now, Beckett. Did you really think I would just let him disappear again?"

Her stomach rolled. Shot? Twice? What was he talking about? This was too much. Everything was wrong. Her chest was getting tight, it was getting harder and harder to breathe and oh, God, she was going to be sick.

"Espo, I have to get to the bathroom. Now."

Javier's eyes widened as he scooted to her side, gingerly taking her elbow to help her off the bed, left to watch after her as she practically ran across the hospital room, hindered only by the tightness of her back.

Falling to her knees in front of the toilet, she ignored the pain ripping up her back as she emptied the contents of her stomach. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she swiped the back of her hand across her brow, only to be greeted with a layer of grime. She let out an audible groan as she pushed herself upright once more and shuffled to the sink, bending over to splash some water on her face, rinsing her skin and mouth. This day was not getting any better.

She shut off the water, bracing her hands on the sides of the sink as she took in a couple steadying breaths. Attempting to look in the mirror, she was stopped by the icepick piercing her brow, an array of dancing white lights decorating her vision. Lowering her head again, she remained content to let it hang and avoid coming face to face with the mess she must be. What was Esposito talking about? She had never been shot, at least not before today. With a pained sigh she reached for one of the towels on the shelf to her side and pressed her face into the overly bleached and starched terrycloth. The exhaustion, which had obviously already flooded her brain, began to seep into her muscles making her sway forward until her hip bones rested against the cool ceramic sink. She let the towel fall to a heap in the basin as she ran her hands down her face. When her fingers threaded up through her hair, she froze.

It was long…

Her eyes opened, focused in on the woman staring back at her from the mirror.

And then Kate Beckett screamed.

* * *

A/N: Thank you everyone for your overwhelming response to this story, you all are awesome. I hope you continue to enjoy this ride! I also went back and made some minor changes to the prologue, just fyi. Also, while it is going to be posted as one story, this is actually going to have two parts.

Thank you as always to Kate Christie for the beta, not everyone would sit on a kitchen counter surrounded by movers and chaos just to work on this chapter, major kudos. I believe this is one margarita in your column.

Twitter: aspen_musing


	3. Flashforward Chapter 2

Flashforward

Part 1

Chapter 2

Kate's heart pounded in her chest as she raced up the stairs, her legs moving as fast as they could, the lactic acid burning in her muscles, her breaths burning her throat. He wasn't going to get away this time; she wouldn't let him. She would get to the bottom of this, find out who hired him, who killed her mother, and nothing, no one, was going to get in her way.

She rounded the last flight just as the door a level above snapped shut, relieving the dank cement stairwell of its small sliver of daylight. Kate was sunk into darkness save for the faint glow of the red exit sign and the flicker of the overhead lights. With a burst of adrenaline, she took the final steps two at a time, then rammed her shoulder into the metal push bar, sending it swinging open.

Kate's eyes slammed shut as pain seared through her temple, the world suddenly tipping around her.

"Don't come any closer."

Kate's brow furrowed at the sound of the panic-stricken voice.

"I didn't mean to kill her, I just got so mad."

Kate swallowed hard. Did Maddox have an accomplice? A female gun for hire? Shielding her face with one hand, she forced her eyes to blink open. The world swam back into view, but it wasn't the New York rooftop she expected. Instead, she was in a basement, a laundry room, the smell of warm cotton and flowery detergent permeated the air, the sweetness edging on overwhelming. Her eyes focused on the girl sitting in the middle of the room, on one of the metal folding tables, a large kitchen knife rhythmically cutting shallow slices into her thigh.

Oh, God, this wasn't right….

"Beckett."

Kate had to force herself not to jump as Esposito's voice hissed in her ear, but she couldn't help whipping her head around to look at him.

His features were younger, his cheeks a little fuller, his eyes searching her face questioningly.

She spun back around to look at the girl… She knew that girl. She knew the room. She had been here before…. But no, that was impossible.

"Beckett."

Esposito's voice was growing more insistent, and Kate gave a small shake of her head. She had to snap out of it, she bit down on her lower lip, a tinge of pain shooting through her skin. Well, she definitely wasn't dreaming.

What the hell was going on?

Everyone was staring at her now; she had to do something. She had to get out of here, but she couldn't just leave.

She sucked in a deep breath, her stomach suddenly churning. Oh God, and she couldn't throw up either.

_Think, just think, Beckett. You remember this._

This girl…. she had killed her friend, Sarah. Yes that was right, Sarah Manning, the nanny, whose body had been found in the dryer in this laundry room a few days before. Name, what was her name?

Chloe— the nanny for the little girl upstairs. Chloe.

She lifted her arms from where they had fallen limp in front of her, holding her gun up again. Esposito let out a cautious breath.

All she had to do was manage to disarm her, and then she could figure out what was going on.

"Chloe, Chloe, listen to me," Beckett started as she inched forward, rounding the corner of one of the tables so she was facing the crying young woman.

"I never meant to hurt any of them, I just got so angry."

"Chloe, listen to me. Everything is going to be okay, I just need you to put down the knife."

"He was mine, why did she have to go after him too? Why couldn't she have just left us alone?"

A movement in the corner of the room caught Kate's attention, and her gaze shot up to see Castle edge his way through the doorway, back pressed against the wall, eyes wide.

Oh, God, Castle. What was he doing here? He had said he was finished, for good this time, and she had believed him. But he was there, and he looked so young, so eager. She could see the mixture of excitement, anticipation and fear swimming across his features. A pain shot through her chest, regret bubbling up from their fight the day before.

Chloe sniffled and Beckett's attention darted back to her. The knife was still methodically slicing into her thigh, a thin line of blood now trickling down her pant leg.

"Chloe, look at me."

Chloe hesitated, the knife momentarily stilling then resuming it's rhythm, before lifting her eyes to look at the detective.

"Good, good girl. We know you didn't mean to do this. We'll get you the help you need, I just need you to put down the knife and everything will be okay."

Beckett held her breath as the girl's eyes shifted to stare past her, off into space.

Kate was about to take another step forward, when suddenly the knife clattered to the floor, the sound resonating through the thick silence of the room. Just as she breathed out a sigh of relief, a cacophony of sound burst forth around her— Esposito sprang forward to kick away the knife, the chaos of the uniforms clamored to arrest the fallen nanny.

The world tipped again, and Beckett reached out to brace herself against the metal table.

"Wow…. that was so cool. Do things like that happen a lot— perps threatening suicide? I just wish this whole situation wasn't so cliché. I mean the nanny kills another nanny because of an affair with the father? Lame."

Kate breathed out a sigh as Castle rattled off his list of inane questions and comments. Normally this was the point at which she would tune him out or snap at him to shut up, but the relief that flooded her veins at the sound of his voice was enough to stall her snarky retort for the moment.

"Hey, Beckett, are you okay? You look a little pale."

"Yeah, Castle," she murmured in reply, hand still braced against the table, eyes still pressed shut. "I'm fine."

"Okay…" she could feel his eyes on her still, and she could imagine the barrage of questions swirling in them, the quiet concern and strength she had come to expect. "But you gotta admit, sleaze bag musician got game. Not only was he banging not one nanny, but two, without his wife even knowing, but also she loved him so much that she actually killed the other for him. I feel like I should be taking notes!"

Kate's eyes automatically rolled, and she had to force the smirk off her face as she shook her head. Part of her had missed the antics of this Castle, not that she would ever admit it. She sucked in a breath, holding it in her lungs until it started to burn. It was time to go, to figure out what the hell was going on, because the world was still tilting around her, and she felt like she was walking through a funhouse maze, the floor made of a child's bouncy house, not to mention that she was currently reliving a day from years before.

A concussion, Maddox had knocked her out, and now she had some form of head trauma. Hell, maybe she was still unconscious. Yes, that must be it. She let out an involuntary laugh.

"You sure you're okay, Detective?"

Kate smiled softly. It had been a long time since Castle had called her "detective" without it being out of anger. No, no this was her mind playing tricks on her, not a jaunt down memory lane. She pushed herself off of the table and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes.

"Yeah, Castle." Her voice was tired, all the energy and adrenaline which had been pumping through her veins in pursuit of her shooter suddenly zapped from her veins. "Just need to get out of here."

"Okay, sure… Where are we going, back to the precinct? Do we get to interrogate the perp? Ooh, can I drive?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not." Kate murmured as she held out her keys, dangling from one finger, while the other hand fruitlessly continued to try to massage the headache from her temple. "You drive."

* * *

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, tears threatening her eyes, hands braced against the edges of the sink. She had seen a ghost.

Castle had been prattling on about something beside her when they had come in with Chloe Richardson in handcuffs. Some story about his daughter, a distant conquest, or a new game he had gotten on his cell phone. She had stopped listening about two words in, her eyes trained on the man across the room.

"… And then we went back to her place and…"

Montgomery had just been standing there, a hand on his hip, the other holding the receiver up to his ear, talking animatedly into the into the phone, like there was nothing wrong, like he hadn't played a part in her mother being killed, like he wasn't going to sacrifice himself to save her life in a couple of years. She could remember the way he had looked at her back then, like she was his pride and joy, a mentee he had taken under his wing, a daughter of his own when her own father wasn't fit for the job.

"… But you try performing with dozens of dolls staring at you with their tiny unblinking eyes…"

She had taken off like a shot down the hall, one hand pressed over her mouth, the sound of Castle's questioning calls following her. Now, after relieving herself of her stomach contents into one grimy toilet of the ladies room, she was left with nothing to do but stare at herself, well the three-year younger version of herself: short, dark brown hair, pale skin, a plain turtleneck. There were dark circles under her eyes, the faint beginnings of frown lines around her mouth.

This was… impossible.

The door swung open, causing Beckett to jump, her hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink.

"Hey, Beckett, you okay? You're looking a little peaked."

"Oh, hey, Karpowski. I'm fine." Kate's eyes followed the other detective in the mirror as Karpowski disappeared into the far stall. "Just a long week is all."

"I bet, I heard about your new shadow," the other woman chuckled through the closed door. "But I'll give you one thing, Beckett, that guy is a hunk. Please tell me you've jumped that already."

Kate's eyes snapped back, focusing back in on her reflection. _Please tell me you've jumped that already_. She felt tears swelling in her eyes. No, she was _not_ going to cry.

Instead she forced out a laugh, using it to cover the sniff of her nose. "Heh. No, God no. Castle? Never."

Her heart ached at how true the words actually were. Never.

A wave of panic hit her. Montgomery, Castle and… time travel? She had to get out of here. She needed to go. Where, she didn't know. Where did you go when you've either just traveled back in time four years or possibly have severe head trauma?

She couldn't go to the hospital; they'd commit her. She couldn't tell anyone.

_Castle would believe you… _

She laughed at the thought. Castle, the man who had told her they were over just hours before, who had walked away without a second thought when he claimed to love her and that he would do anything for her. Right, this would be a stretch even for him. Hell, she was living it and she couldn't believe it, even though the truth was literally staring her in the face.

Focus, Beckett, what had happened? What had actually happened? Was she certifiably insane, in a coma, experiencing some form of extended déjà vu? Why here, why now?

The sound of the toilet flushing drew her back out of her musings and she pushed herself off of the sink, determined to get out of the room before Karpowski reappeared.

Swinging the door open she rushed back into the hall, making a beeline back to her desk to gather her belongings and get out of the precinct. She could only pray that Castle had given up and headed home; it was late after all.

"Beckett!"

Kate froze as the sound of her former boss's voice bellowed across the bullpen. With a sigh she turned slowly to see the subject of her musings standing in the doorway to his office, waving her over. She forced herself to walk on shaky legs, her gaze never leaving him, studying him, the way he stood so nonchalantly as she walked over.

"Yes, sir?" She croaked out.

"How you doing, Beckett?"

"F-fine, Sir."

Montgomery's eyes stayed on her for a moment longer, assessing her, searching to make sure her answer was the truth.

"A little tired." Kate amended when his gaze still didn't waver.

He hummed in response, finally semi-satisfied with her admission even though they both knew it wasn't the whole truth. "How's Castle doing?"

Beckett rolled her eyes heavenward, her answer coming out automatically. "Annoying, Sir."

Montgomery chuckled. "Good work today, Beckett. Go home before I'm forced to arrest _you_ for homicide, justifiable or otherwise."

He rewarded her with a wink before turning back to his office, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, attempting to breathe her emotions back into check, as she turned toward her own desk, noting the writer still settled in the lumpy fraying chair to the side. Of course he was, he wouldn't leave that easily on his first day, or any day for that matter. He never had…

"Oh, and Beckett?"

Kate shut her eyes, tears suddenly threatening, lips pressed together. She wanted to run back over to him, to yell, to scream. How dare he hide her mother's killer from her for so many years? How dare he use her like he had? How dare he sacrifice himself to save her life? She wanted to hug him and not let go until he promised once and for all not to fall on his sword this time around. Forcing in a breath, she cleared her throat. Not sure enough in her current appearance to turn around, she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Make sure he leaves too. I don't need him bothering any of the other detectives in your absence."

Beckett sniffed, covering it with a short, not completely forced laugh. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

Castle was staring at her as they stood side by side in the elevator. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head as she kept her gaze straight on the blinking numbers on the top of the lift, watching them count down toward one.

"So…" he started, in an uncharacteristic lack of words. "I'll, um, see you tomorrow?"

Part of her was thankful this Castle didn't know her well enough to see how upset she was, how off kilter. The other part wanted him to know that something was wrong, to reach in and drag it out of her.

"I'll call you."

"Really? You'll call me? You?"

Beckett tilted her head so she could pin him with a withering look.

"_Yes_, I'll _call _you." Then the corner of her mouth twitched up into a ghost of a smile. "I've been ordered to."

The elevator pinged, signaling they had reached their final destination of the lobby, and Beckett lingered back, letting Castle exit ahead of her before falling in step with him as they walked out the double doors to the sidewalk.

"Well, it's been fun, Detective. I'll, um, see you later." Castle gave her a small wave as he backed down the sidewalk.

Beckett's lips parted, a 'goodbye' and a confession of the day's Freaky Friday-esque events vying for escape.

"Of course," Castle continued, taking a step back toward her. "That proposal to debrief each other still stands."

Beckett rolled her eyes at his charmingly smug grin, any debate gone from her thoughts. "Goodnight, Castle."

"Good night, Detective."

And with that he turned, leaving her to watch him walk down the block, her stomach sinking with the suddenly clarity that this wasn't her Castle. This wasn't the man who had run into her burning apartment to save her, the one with whom she had almost frozen to death in a freezer, who had flown across the United States to help her avenge the death of a friend, who had whispered that he loved her while she laid dying in a cemetery. This was the millionaire playboy who was looking for a good time, both inside the precinct and out.

She turned her head to peer down the sidewalk headed in the other direction, back to the building where she had 'appeared'. Whatever was going on, she was going to have to figure it out for herself.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for reading and for your continuing support of this (and all of my stories) I know I am slow to update but I hope you all still stick with me and it's worth the wait. Thank you as always to KC for continuing to be an awesome beta and sounding board, it turns out time travel isn't very easy to write without at least a couple margaritas flowing through your system. ;)


	4. Flashforward Chapter 3

Flashforward

Part 1

Chapter 3

2012

"Beckett?"

Kate spared a glance over her shoulder at the closed door as Esposito's worried call filtered through the pressboard. Her hands still pressed against the top of her head, fingers threaded through her hair.

"Beckett? You okay?" His voice was growing more insistent.

Kate's eyes returned to the mirror and the stranger staring back at her. She was definitely not okay.

"Beckett? If you don't answer I'm coming in there."

"Fine!" She forced the word up her suddenly parched throat, voice cracking past dry lips. "I'm fine, Espo. Almost slipped..."

"Okay..." His disbelieving voice was right on the other side of the door now.

"I'm fine, Javi, really. I'll be out in a minute."

She stared at her reflection as his footsteps retreated, presumably to the chair by the bed. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn't go far. Slowly her fingers relaxed, releasing their death grip on her roots, falling from the top of her head to her cheeks. One pointer pressed into the skin just below each eye; it was painted with black smudges from her mascara. Her fingers trailed down her face to the thin, almost invisible lines at the corners of her mouth and back up to the crinkles by her eyes. Those lines were brought on by age, by laughter... She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed that hard, but apparently she was laughing a lot more, in the future.

The future...

Her eyes widened. Oh God. But no, that was impossible.

Concussion, amnesia.

Yes. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Yes, she had amnesia; that had to be it.

Leaning down, she splashed some water on her face, scrubbing at her skin, washing away the rest of the dirt, grime and leftover make up from the day.

Slowly, she lifted her head again, patting her face dry with the same towel. She resumed her staring contest with her reflection.

But she hadn't hit her head before going through the door...

_Think, Kate, just think..._

They had gone to the girl, Chloe's, apartment. They had figured out she had been jealous of the vic and the father having _another _affair... Ugh. Why did men have to be so disgusting sometimes? Was it really so much to ask to find a nice, devoted guy?

_No no, focus, Kate._

From the family's apartment they had gone down to the basement... and then she was on the roof. She hadn't hit her head in between; that had happened later, with Maddox. Maddox... No, she definitely didn't know that name.

She needed to get out of here. She needed to figure out what was going on.

Taking a deep breath, she tore her eyes away from the mirror and turned to face the door, then forced her hand to steady enough to twist the knob.

Esposito was perched in the chair beside the hospital bed, hands clasped between his knees, but he jumped to his feet the minute she entered the room, coming to hover by her side as she walked slowly back across the room.

"I'm okay, Javi, really," Kate mumbled as she clutched the back of her hospital gown together, noting the haggard look on her friend and colleague's face and the large butterfly bandage on his forehead. "You should head home, get some rest. Looks like you took a good knock on the head also."

"I'm fine, Beckett." He responded, not straying from her side as she lifted herself back up to sit on the bed.

She rubbed a hand through her hair, her _long _hair. Ugh, she didn't have time for this argument. "So am I. Go home, Espo. I'll call you later."

His exhausted eyes narrowed at her. "You'll be okay to get home?"

"My dad's coming; I'll be fine."

Esposito pegged her with another look before backing slowly toward the door. "Fine. But you need anything, you call me."

She rewarded him with a small smile as he disappeared into the hall. She waited a beat before pressing the call button for the nurse.

"Ms. Beckett? Are you okay? Is anything wrong?" the nurse asked as she entered the room a few moments later. "They'll be down to get you shortly."

"No, everything's fine," Kate reassured her. "I was just wondering if you could tell me where my phone is?"

The nurse stooped down and picked up a bag from by the foot of the bed. "All your personal items are in here. Your phone is a little worse for wear, but it should still be functional."

With a parting smile, the nurse headed back out the door, leaving Beckett to fish through the plastic, drawstring bag for her flip phone. As she searched, her fingers got tangled in a chain, and she drew her hand out, bringing her mother's ring with it. With a pained smile she untangled the chain and placed it over her head before diving back in for her target item. Finally her fingers wrapped around the metal body of her cellular, and she pulled it out with a triumphant cry, only to stop and stare as it came into view.

"What the…"

It looked like something Castle would use. She poked at the screen, her frown deepening when nothing happened. Turning it over, she huffed when her gaze landed on the picture of an apple on the back. An iPhone? She had sworn to herself she would never get an iPhone, especially when Castle had spent the last week flaunting his in her face. Her flip phone made calls and texted, that was all she needed, so what was this?

With a resigned sigh she poked around the edge until she found the power button, her heels kicking the bottom of the bed as she waited for it to power up. When the screen flickered on she swiped a finger across the bar and groaned at the sight of the keypad prompting her for a pass code.

Randomly she punched in a number only for it to be denied. _Think, Kate._ It was her phone, what number would _she_ choose? With her lips drawn between her teeth she punched in eleven seventeen, her birth date, only to frown when the phone buzzed in denial.

Huh.

With an audible growl she punched in the next date close to her heart, the date of her mother's death, followed by her mother's birth date only to be denied both times.

Okay, so clearly it wasn't a number _she_ would think of right off the bat. No, an iPhone wouldn't have been her idea in the first place; she would have been talked into it by…. Castle?

No…. She wouldn't….

Her mind flashed to Esposito's words, and the crestfallen expression on Castle's face when she had sent him out of her room. Her teeth worried her lip even harder as her eyes landed on today's date, May 7, 2012. Three and a half years later, and Castle was still hanging around. It definitely didn't take this long to write one book.

Did that mean…. oh, no. She wouldn't…. would she?

She wracked her brain thinking back to when Castle was filling out his paperwork, and her perusals of his fan site (which she would never admit to). His birthday. April Fool's. Scarily appropriate.

Slowly she used her thumbs to punch in the number, _0 4 0 1_, one eye pinching closed for the split second before the screen sprang to life.

Son of a bitch.

She skimmed over the screen, taking in the random apps she knew she hadn't added: a game with a picture of a fat mad bird as it's icon and some other weird programs, like a cartoon cat that repeated back phrases in a high pitched voice. Shaking her head, she forced her mind back to the task at hand, finding her contact list. Quickly she scrolled through until she found the number she was looking for.

She cleared her throat as the tone rang in her ear, reviewing her speech in her head.

"Katie?"

"Hey, Dad."

"Oh my God, Katie. Are you okay? When Rick called he told me you had been shot."

Her heart swelled at the sound of her father's voice, no matter how many years had passed, their relationship was the same, or even better than it had been.

"It was just a graze, really it's not bad. I'm fine."

"We're just getting on the interstate now, I will be there soon."

"No, Dad, don't worry. I'm just going to go home and sleep. Stay, enjoy your trip."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm sure. I'm fine, really. They just need to run a couple more routine tests and then I'll be free to go. Seriously, I will probably be home and in bed before you even make it back to the city."

Kate held her breath as she prayed that her father would agree with her. She was off kilter enough at the moment; she didn't need the added stress of her father in the mix.

With a final nod and an exchange of 'I love you' she ended the call. But no sooner had her thumb pressed the button did his words echo back through her mind. "We're getting on the interstate…" _We. _

"Who's we?"

"Ms. Beckett? I'm here to take you to CT."

Kate's eyes shot up to see a tech with a wheelchair standing in the doorway; panic rose in her chest.

"Who's _we_?"

* * *

"Well, Detective, your tests came back normal…" The doctor stated with a frown.

Kate forced a smile. No concussion, no swelling or bleeding. She was normal, everything was normal, except for the fact that she had spontaneously lost three years of her life, her father was a part of a mysterious "we," and apparently Richard Castle was not only part of her life, but important enough that his birth date was the pass code to her phone.

Yep, completely normal.

"Yeah, no. Sorry about that, I was just momentarily confused. Of course it's 2012 and I am…" Kate blanched. "Thirty-two years old."

Well, she wouldn't have to worry about her friends teasing her for reaching the big "3-0."

"I would like to keep you overnight just to be sure…"

"No, no really. I'm okay. I'm just going to go home and go to sleep."

"Well, Detective, if you leave, it will be against medical advice."

Kate nodded, rubbing a hand over her brow. She needed to get out of here.

The doctor tried again as Kate signed the papers and pulled on the remains of her jacket, but Beckett only responded with a tired smile and shake of her head before turning toward the exit, making her way into a brave new world, alone.

* * *

Kate frowned when her key got jammed in the lock of her apartment building door. It had been a long day, too long. All she wanted was a glass of wine and to sleep until the next millennium. This was the last thing she needed.

With a sigh she punched her thumb into the call button for the super's apartment.

"What?"

"Mr. Stevens, this is Kate Beckett in apartment…"

"Beckett? What the hell are you doing here? I told you to _never_ show your face around here again. I don't care if you're a cop, do you know how much business you cost us?"

Kate's jaw dropped as she stared at the intercom. What was he talking about? "Mr. Stevens, I'm sorry but…"

"What? You blow up an apartment and you want to say _you'r_e _sorry_?"

She had _what_?

This day couldn't possibly get any worse.

Her finger slipped off of the button and just as she took a step back onto the sidewalk, the first droplet of water splashed to the pavement.

* * *

It was raining, and only a pane of glass a fraction of an inch thick separated him from a torrential downpour. Thunder cracked. It was oddly comforting- the occasional flash of light and the steady tap of raindrops against the window. It had been an idiot move, going to the hospital. He had promised himself that he wouldn't give in, not this time. But then Ryan had called, relaying the news that Kate had been shot, again. She was unconscious in the hospital, and Castle and her father were the only two people on her emergency contact list. So they had called, and he had gone.

His own words from the day before had echoed through his head "you're going to get yourself killed, and I'm not going to stick around to watch." But the panic had swelled in his chest, and he had kissed his daughter on the head, told her to have fun at her overnight, and run out the door... to her side. He had thought maybe, just maybe, the bull-headed detective would have seen the error of her ways, how stupid it was to throw away her entire life over this. He understood, she wanted to avenge her mother, but it shouldn't be everything to her, and it definitely wasn't worth her own life in return.

But then he had gotten to her room, and she had been downright cold. Not even a flash of guilt or remorse in her eyes. And to make it worse, she had referred to their partnership, their friendship, as research. That was it.

He had been right before, as much as he could feel his heart crack in his chest as he admitted it to himself. It was over. His finger swiped over the screen of his 'murder board', pulling 'Beckett' toward the trash. He couldn't do this to himself anymore. He couldn't sit by and watch her kill herself in the pursuit of a vendetta. He couldn't force _her_ to change, but _he_ could.

It was time to move on.

* * *

Kate's fist froze an inch from the door. She had checked everywhere: her jeans, her jacket, her phone. She had even considered calling her father, but what would she say? 'Hey, Dad, I seem to have misplaced my address, and by the way, I think I just jumped three years into the future?' Yeah, that would go over well.

But would this really go any better?

She watched her hand shake. She was freezing, having had to walk the twenty plus blocks here through the rain, her wallet nowhere to be found. She had tried to call, but he hadn't answered. Not that she blamed him after what she had said, and seeing the look on his face in the hospital.

The doorman had simply nodded to her when she walked in, a small smile playing on his lips. So she _had_ been here before. How many times? They weren't… were they?

Another shiver shot up her spine. She had to do this; she had nowhere else to go. She had been suspended, and therefore banned from the precinct for the near future, and she was effectively homeless because she didn't know where home was. She had no money, no car, just her keys and the random knowledge of Richard Castle's address from the paperwork he had been filling out earlier in the day. She let out an incredulous snort. Apparently her memory was fine, after all she managed to recall Richard Castle's address and birth date with no problem.

Her fist finally connected with the solid wood of the door, and she waited, breath burning in her lungs as she listened to the heavy footfalls on the other side.

"Beckett? What do you want?"

He looked tired, so tired, and years older than she remembered. Her body was shaking uncontrollably now, the cold seeping down into her bones, the pain medicine starting to wear off.

The world started to tip again, her hand coming out automatically to brace herself against the wall as her vision blurred, her words thick as they stuck in her throat.

"I need to talk to you."

* * *

A/N: You all still hanging in there? Confused yet? Thank you all for all of your kind words and support. You all are fabulous. Thank you as always to KC for her awesomeness as a beta and an overall human being- now it's your turn, lady, get those fingers typing! :)


	5. Flashforward Chapter 4

Flashforward

Part 1

Chapter 4

2009

Kate pressed a hand against the doorjamb, feeling the metal frame up and down. There were no soft spots, no weaknesses; her hand didn't suddenly disappear. She let out a pained sigh. What exactly did you look for when you were searching for a portal through time?

And what would that be called— a wormhole, a tear in the fabric of space-time, a time ripple? Her mind flashed back to that case with the Steampunk society. She still shuddered at the thought of Castle injecting that phrase into any possible point in conversation. She swore he did it just to push her buttons.

The officer had been sent home and the caution tape had been taken down since the case was technically closed, leaving Kate with her musings in the apartment complex basement, save for the whir of a distant dryer. Beckett blanched at the idea of someone actually doing laundry in this room after everything that had happened here. She remembered, even being a semi-hardened detective at the time, putting off her washing for as long as possible, getting down to her second to last pair of underwear before venturing down to her own building's laundry facilities, making sure to inspect every single machine before dumping her clothes in and staying perched in a chair with a book keeping a watchful eye, something she had never done before.

If she somehow managed to be transported through time using this doorway, then logic would dictate that walking through the doorway from the opposite direction would send her back, right? But she had already walked through the door again when she was leaving with Castle. Kate's teeth sank into her lower lip, a nervous habit she had tried to kick since Natalie Rhodes pointed it out to her. Apparently her trip back in time was starting to revert her mannerisms. Well, it wouldn't hurt anything to try. With a quick glance down the hall to make sure that no one was coming, she stepped into the laundry room and squeezed her eyes shut. She stuck out a foot, and with a deep breath, she walked back through the doorway.

The world didn't sway. There was no blinding headache. Nothing felt… different.

One eye popped open.

Kate sighed as she took in the bleak basement hallway. Well that definitely hadn't worked.

Hands on hips, she turned back to look at the laundry room and paused a moment to do a mental inventory. According to the scans she definitely didn't have a concussion, and as far as she could tell she wasn't in coma or some sort of weird waking dream, and this definitely was not a prolonged case of déjà vu.

The only logical explanation was that she had actually traveled through time. Time travel… logical. She was starting to sound like Castle.

"Um, excuse me."

Kate looked up, startled, at the small voice, coming face to face with a slip of a girl, blonde hair falling halfway down her back, jade green eyes hidden behind thick black-framed glasses staring back at her. The girl made a motion with her hand and Kate's cheeks burned as she realized that she had been standing in the middle of the hall, blocking the path as she stared blankly at the wall for who knows how long.

"Sorry," the detective stuttered in return, offering a small smile as she stepped to the side, letting the teenager pass. Then with one last look back over her shoulder to the spot where her portal back to the future should have been, she locked eyes with girl, who was staring at her curiously from over the row of tables and washing machines. The teenager gave her a shy smile before ducking her head back down to focus on the machine. Kate's eyes narrowed for a moment before shaking her head and making her way back toward the street.

She stopped at three newsstands on her way home from the crime scene, riffling through the stacks of papers, checking the date. In the process she earned herself more than one disgruntled stare from the proprietors, but in the end, each search lead to the same result: February 16, 2009.

Her head was spinning as her sedan cruised on autopilot back to her building. She had seriously gone back in time. In an instant she had been transported from 2012 to 2009 and into the body of her former self. She flipped down the rearview mirror as she idled at a red light, once again taking in the short dark hair, sans highlights, and pale skin. She could barely even recognize her reflection; so much had changed in the past three years. The light turned green, and an impatient horn sounded behind her. With a sigh she adjusted the mirror back and turned the corner onto her block. Only when she stopped in front of her building and took in the broken windows and the crumbling fire escapes of the warehouse that hadn't yet been renovated into apartments, did she realize she had ended up at the wrong home.

Castle wouldn't even believe this if she told him.

* * *

Kate stared at the door of her apartment, her former apartment, the one that had blown up, except now it was fully intact. Her super, Mr. Stevens, the man who had cussed her out for a week after the explosion, had simply given her a nod as they passed in the lobby. She could still smell the smoke, feel the heat of the smoldering wood, the warmth of Castle's coat and arms wrapped around her battered and bruised body, but the door was still standing, strong, steady. She slipped the key out of her pocket and into the lock. Turning the knob, she pushed the door open slowly as she inched her way into the apartment.

It was like she was walking into an archive of her life. Photos, frames, drawings, books, and other relics she had thought were long gone were once again right in front of her. She had liked this space; it had been a fine apartment, and she had been upset when it had been blown to pieces, but it wasn't like her new place, her new apartment she had personalized. She had used her precious little free time to scour antique shops and street markets looking for original accents that would make the new apartment her own. She had dug deep and made the space her home instead of just some simple crash pad with homey details.

She wandered through the rooms, her hand trailing along the small dining table and the segment of wall separating the kitchen from the living room. She scanned the walls, so clean, perfect. There were no shutters to be opened, their slatted panels illuminating the steps she had taken to find her mother's killer. No sign of the obsession that had lain dormant inside her for so many years. It had been a simpler time in a way. Yes, she had still had that weight disguised as decoration around her neck, but she had moved on, she had come to peace with not knowing the reasons behind the slowly dulling ache. And then Castle had stuck his nose in where it hadn't belonged and twisted a knife into those old wounds, tearing them open again with the finesse of a child in a pumpkin carving contest.

She sank down into the couch and propped her heels up to rest on the coffee table, effectively stretching halfway across the cramped living room. She hadn't realized how small the space was before- before being spoiled by her industrial-style steal of a place or before spending so much time in the Castle loft. Her heart sank again; they had been so close. She had been getting there, to the point of moving beyond her mother's death, her own shooting. John Woo was supposed to be a turning point for them. That was what she was supposed to be doing right now, watching gruesome, gory movies stretched out beside him on that sinfully comfortable leather couch, a tub of popcorn, and hopefully something more, between them. But Maddox had reared his ugly head making her spiral back toward that pit again. And then for him to reveal he had gone behind her back, betrayed her, kept from her the fact that there was a file out there someplace with information on who was behind all of this?

Kate froze. Montgomery had that file…

When Castle had told her about it, it had been in the hands of some man, a phantom, a voice on the other end of a phone line, but now, in _this_ time, Montgomery was still alive.

She pushed herself off of the sofa, pacing the room with a renewed source of nervous energy.

Was this why it had happened? Had she leapt back through time so that she could stop this chain of events before it had even begun?

Her vision blurred as memories came rushing back to her- the shock that blindsided her while she sat with Dick Coonan's knife in her hand, her friends surrounding her, telling her the dark conspiratorial details which were the tip of the iceberg in her mother's murder case. The nightmares she had for weeks after she saw Raglan shot and killed in front of her, her frazzled brain replacing the former cop with her partner, blood oozing from Castle's chest, his eyes questioning, accusing, "Why, Kate? Why me?" The suffocating burn of the bullet passing through her own heart, the searing pain of the three months of rehab that followed, the idea of just giving up actually becoming an option in her mind more than once. All of a sudden that invisible fist was back, seizing her heart. The mental fallout. She _still _froze from time to time when she heard a car backfire or a door slam too loudly. Dr. Burke had told her it might never go away completely. She may always be broken...

But…

She could get the file, find out the name of the Dragon, not have to watch the blood and life seep out of Montgomery's body in that God forsaken hangar, and keep herself from ever even getting shot-

In a flash she was back there, bleeding on the ground on top of Montgomery's grave, Castle's face hovering above her own, panic in his eyes, love and devotion in his words. Her eyes fluttered shut and a single tear rolled down her cheek, her erratic heartbeat suddenly calm.

Castle… It always came back to him. He had always been there, by her side, holding her hand, her heart. And when he was there, that emptiness she had come to accept as part of who she was, the hole in her heart carved by the loss of her mother only made visible a decade later by the path of a bullet, didn't feel quite as hollow anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, she and Castle would have a chance too. She could dance a little closer at the Mayor's Ball in that sinfully gorgeous red dress he had bought her. She wouldn't hesitate when he invited her to the Hamptons; she wouldn't run when he wore his heart on his sleeve in that hotel room in LA. She could say "yes" from the beginning, and then none of this would have happened. They would have a real chance instead of a file of missed opportunities.

Of course she wasn't perfect. Those nearly impenetrable walls had been up since day one- brought on by the death of her mother, her father's slip down the alcoholic rabbit hole, and an endless line of men leaving her. She had been jaded at a young age, but Castle has wormed his way into that fortress, chipping away at the bricks, getting under her skin. And through it all, the highs of piecing together the puzzles, solving the toughest of cases and celebrating with burgers and beer to the lows of almost freezing to death and being blown up he had stayed... until the end. But she could fix the end; she could make it so it would never happen at all.

Kate huffed out a small laugh, her fingers threading through her short hair, hands resting on her head as she came to a stop in the middle of the room. That was it, why this had happened. She was going to get that file and stop all of this before it even started. It made perfect sense. It was time to fix destiny.

* * *

A/N: So, good plan or bad plan, Beckett? ;) Thank you all as always for your kind words and for sticking with this mind bender of a story. Thank you also to Dtrekker for my awesome new cover art. You, my dear, are too kind to me. And of course to my fabulous beta KC for turning my words into a shiny rainbow. :)


End file.
